


Almost Like Family

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (with a little help from the kids), Domestic, Easter, Fluff, Getting Together, Holidays, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 21:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Danny’s plans for the perfect Easter don’t go quite how he’d imagined.... But that's not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it might just be the best thing ever....





	Almost Like Family

**Author's Note:**

> Some slightly belated McDanno fluff for your Easter basket. <3
> 
> I’m behind on everything right now—replying to comments, watching the show... so, shhh, please no spoilers about that last episode, and I promise I’ll catch up on all of it soon!

With the divorce finally final (Danny’s never waited so eagerly for someone else’s divorce before, it’s been enlightening), Rachel’s given in and said they can do Easter as a “family.” Danny knows she’s being sentimental for him, she knows it means a lot to him, to have this, to have some holiday with them all.... And while at least one of the kids is still young enough to not be a bitter, snarky, eye-rolling teenager about it.

Thing is, and call him whatever you like, but Danny likes Easter. He always has. With his sweet tooth, it only makes sense that Easter ranks with his favored holidays—and, far better than Halloween, when you have to work for your candy, Easter brings it directly to your home with no effort whatsoever. Besides, he always liked getting dressed up in his Easter suit, being called “dapper” by his grandmother. He could have done without the cheek pinching that went along with that, but the feast at her place after church was worth it.

If you’ve never had a holiday at an Italian relative’s home, you simply cannot appreciate the vastness, the epic proportions of the spread, and yes, Easter has nothing on Christmas, but still. His favorite dish, though, and do not tell Steve, because Danny’s pretty sure he’d die of embarrassment, but, his favorite Easter dish, and he wouldn’t even eat it any other day of the year, but it’s simply a must on Easter... is ambrosia. Yeah. Canned fruit (yes, including pineapple), mini marshmallows, coconut (you see why Steve can never know...) and syrupy sweet dressing. Topped, of course, with maraschino cherries, which probably shouldn’t even be considered _food_.

So, yeah. Danny likes Easter.

Well. Danny used to like Easter. Lately, not so much. So, he’s really looking forward to the redemption of the holiday, is how he’s looking at it.

He’s going with his light gray suit, pale yellow tie, vest even (he’ll take the coat off, obviously). He knows he looks fantastic. He _feels_ fantastic. There’s a vague possibility he’s humming a tune from a certain musical about Easter finery and showing it off. The phrase “spring in one’s step” definitely applies.

So when he’s met at the door to Rachel’s by a nervous looking Grace, his heart just doesn’t even know what to do.

“Mom’s got a migraine.”

Danny feels like he wants to throw up, but then he feels bad for that thought, because he knows that’s probably what Rachel’s doing. Her migraines are few and far between, but when they do hit, they’re brutal. Several hours on the bathroom floor, followed by at least eight in bed, dead to the world. She’ll be fine after, but while she’s down, she is down and out for the count. Danny sees Charlie, who has learned in his few years, that quiet is essential when mommy’s on the bathroom floor, playing silently with his fire truck in the family room. His mind is reeling, trying to work out what they should do—they can’t stay, she’d hate that, and it wouldn’t feel right. But his place is not holiday ready, he was not planning on hosting, and yeah, of course they could make it work, around the piles of laundry, the mess of dishes in the kitchen... but it wouldn’t be the same at all. Besides, his tiny, abysmal yard would not be any fun as an egg-hunting setting. It’s just not the day he had in mind.

Grace puts her hand on Danny’s arm, as though she knows all this, and he looks at her—for possibly the first time hoping that _she_ has the solution, because his mind is simply not functioning in any helpful way at all.

Thankfully, she’s way ahead of him.

“I called Uncle Steve, we’re going over there. Come help me pack all the food?”

Danny isn’t sure why that should upset him, but it does. He makes what he’s sure is a weird face. He can’t seem to help it. “You just invited us over to Steve’s? How did you know he didn’t have plans?”

Grace, who is elegant and lovely in her Easter dress—pale purple with kind of swirly things, manages to not roll her eyes, but he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. “Nooo, Danno, I asked, and he said he was hanging out and paddle boarding, so I said how about doing an egg hunt with Charlie as well, and I made food, so it may as well get eaten. He sounded really happy to have us.”

“I’m sure he is.” Danny’s got this really weird feeling blooming in his chest, and he doesn’t want to think what it is, except he was really looking forward to being a family today, so maybe he’s just being a jerk about having that dream crushed. Again.

But Danny looks at Charlie, in his Easter suit, and it reminds him of himself at that age, and he finds his bigger self, and follows Grace into the immaculate kitchen to pack up the food.

She’s done it all herself, and Danny’s beyond impressed. The ham’s in the crock pot—smart girl, makes it easy to move. But she’s put pineapple on it, and Gracie, really? He sighs. But she’s done the ambrosia exactly right (yes, he tastes it to make sure) and he kisses her on the cheek for it. There’s a lovely green salad that has Rachel written all over it, filled with exotic veg and fucking flowers. It’s the one truly English element of the meal. The rolls are those wonderful sweet Hawaiian ones, and Grace has made potato salad according to the Williams family tradition (eggs, no onions). He asks about dessert (hey, he’s aged out of Easter baskets, so it’s the only sweets he’s getting today), and Grace lifts the lid on a white pastry box to reveal a pink and green and orange cake—that Hawaiian paradise or whatever thing. He’s seen it enough times, but he’s honestly never tried it. Mostly because, well, chocolate.

“You can have my chocolate bunny, Danno,” Grace says when she sees his face fall.

He tries to pretend he’s beyond such frivolity, but he’s pretty sure she doesn’t buy it.

They load the car, including the overnight bags Grace has packed, which probably should seem a bit strange to Danny, because they surely have enough things at his place to not need that, but she insists, and he’s revived enough to be regaining his Easter excitement, and he doesn’t push it.

Steve’s waiting for them when they pull up, and he helps unload, directing Charlie to the living room where Eddie is almost-calmly waiting for attention from children, which he doesn’t get enough of, probably, for his taste. Eddie loves Charlie, and the feeling is entirely mutual. Danny’s heart maybe thuds a little bit as he watches the two small golden things tumble into a pile on the floor.

“I’m sorry my daughter just invited us all to invade your home with our celebration today, babe.”

Steve seems to be as delighted by the sight in his living room as Danny is, but he turns a warm smile to Danny. “First of all, Grace knows she can ask me for anything any time. Second, so do you. I’m thrilled you’re here. I was just gonna make a sandwich or something.”

“Well, Grace put pineapple on the ham for some insane reason, but beyond that, the food is going to be fantastic....” As he trails off, he realizes that Steve’s going to learn about ambrosia, and Danny’s heart kind of skips a few beats.

“Want a drink? I was just mixing up some strawberry lemonade for the kids. Thought I’d put some rum in ours....”

Perfect. Drink enough and maybe he won’t be mortified by his taste in Easter salads.... He can hope.

“Sounds great babe.”

It’s only then that Danny notices that, while Steve is barefoot, he’s wearing nice slacks and a dress shirt. No tie, because that would just be weird, but he looks nice, is Danny’s point, and he’s clearly made an effort. He wonders if that was at Grace’s suggestion, or if Steve thought of it on his own. Decides maybe it doesn’t matter. Tossing his jacket over the back of the easy chair in the living room, he follows Steve into the kitchen for a drink, and sees that Grace has completely taken over, and more than that, looks like she’s relishing every moment.

Grace and Rachel get on remarkably well for mom and teenage daughter, but Danny knows that she resonates a little more with Danny when it comes to certain things, and he’s fairly comfortable with the assertion that how to do Easter dinner is one of those things Grace sides more with Danny on... and having been given free reign has brought a spark to Grace that Danny loves to see, and not just because he’s a budding restaurateur. He maybe thinks, sometimes, about her coming to work for them at “Steve’s.” (Yeah, he’s given in to mentally calling it that. It’s nearly impossible not to, with how frequently Steve refers to it that way.)

Danny’s a little distracted by his observations and musings, and he almost misses a little something that goes on between Steve and Grace as Steve gets the drinks ready—adding some sparking water to Grace and Charlie’s and a nice dose of rum to theirs. There’s this easy companionship to the way they are in the kitchen, something whispered, a knowing smile, and Steve kisses her on the top of her head—which she hates, by the way, when Danny does it—and she, oh my god, she winks back at him? No, surely Danny’s seeing that wrong. She meets his look then, and her smile grows.

“I’ve got it under control,” she says to him and he can’t help but think there’s layers to that he can’t guess at. “Why don’t you guys go do an egg hunt with Charlie? I’ve already done three with him this morning at home.”

Danny grins at that. His boy is like him in so many heartwarming ways. When Danny was a kid, he’d been the same way. Finding the eggs, making his mom hide them again. And again. And again.

Steve hands Danny his drink, grabs his own and Charlie’s, and they head out to the back, calling Charlie and Eddie with them.

After just one egg hunt (and Eddie of course helped), Grace comes out with an old quilt that Steve uses as a picnic blanket. She spreads it out on the ground, then brings out some Easter themed snacks. Deviled eggs, of course, and mini bunny carrots (with the green tops) and a creamy dip he doesn’t recognize.

“We’ll eat later,” she says, when Danny looks questioningly at her. “There’s no hurry, right?”

Danny’s about to answer, when Steve chimes in. “That’s right, Gracie! These look fantastic, kiddo.”

And Grace beams at him, then settles down on the blanket with her drink.

Charlie comes over to grab a carrot while Steve hides the Easter eggs again, and Danny just absorbs the setting for a moment. Something’s prickling somewhere deep inside him he can’t quite name yet. When Steve’s done and comes to sit down—and sits, of course, right the heck up against Danny, as if there wasn’t much room at all on the rather enormous blanket—that prickle expands within Danny, spreading to encompass his chest. Leaning up close and whispering in his ear, Steve says something about this being really fun, and thank you for including him, and it’s all fuzzy in Danny’s head, and everything is soft focus and muted, like a faded memory, which makes no sense, but it seems vaguely familiar somehow. Danny just smiles and takes a drink of his lemonade, and watches Grace follow Charlie around the yard looking for the colorful plastic eggs—some of which Steve’s hidden well out of Charlie’s limited reach, much to his delight.

Danny looses track of how many times one of them hides the eggs, but eventually Charlie seems to have had enough, and they’re lying out on the blanket, the sun high over their heads, but softened by an assortment of puffy clouds, and it occurs to Danny that this is the nicest Easter he’s had since coming to this odd and strangely compelling island. (If he maybe means something more about the odd and strangely compelling man who happens to have his head resting on Danny’s belly at the moment, well. They’re often one in the same in Danny’s mind.)

Unsurprisingly, Charlie falls asleep, and they’re all grateful for that—not just for the momentary break, but also because they all know well enough that it means he’ll be far more pleasant later in the afternoon because of it. So they agree, without even speaking, to lie there with him for as long as he sleeps. Grace, who no doubt is also exhausted from all her work in the kitchen, taking over for her mom, doing all the work herself, slips towards sleepy restfulness, if not into outright slumber, and Danny, when he senses this, finds his hand, of its own volition, running thorough Steve’s hair. Well. Over his bristly head.

It’s an odd sensation. And, to be fair, it’s not the first time he’s done it. They spend enough time resting against each other in ways that border on the intimate that there’s nothing shocking in the fact that Steve so easily put his head on Danny like he’s a pillow, and Danny’s hands aren’t quite as grabby as Steve’s are (his favorite is messing up Danny’s hair at the end of a long day at work), but he considers himself a little bit of a connoisseur of Steve’s hair, and—as he’s told him before, mind you—this shaved look is far from his favorite. He may be less willing to admit that’s mostly because there’s just nothing satisfying to slip through his fingers. But maybe it’s the additional levels of contentment or something, but Danny’s enjoying it more than usual today. So, it would seem, is Steve, because a rumble of something approaching a cat’s purr escapes his chest, and he nuzzles his head against Danny in a similarly cat-like way. Eddie, who had been sleeping next to Charlie, lifts his head quizzically, as though wondering where the cat is, and Danny almost laughs.

After that, Danny thinks he must drift off himself for a bit, and the next thing he knows, Charlie’s awake and saying he’s hungry, so they all head in to eat.

Turns out, Grace set the table before she came out with snacks, and it’s lovely. He knows, now, though, that she coordinated with Steve, which means she told Steve and not Danny far earlier in the day, and somehow that makes him feel uneasy. He’s not sure it should, but it does. Steve’s grandma’s good lace tablecloth is out, as is her china, and the good silver. He knows Steve keeps those things ready, because he likes to use them when he and Danny host the team for recipe tasting nights.

But what really gives away the collusion is the centerpiece. It’s in a ceramic bunny and basket vase, which he thinks he’s seen before in the upstairs guestroom closet. In it are tulips and spray roses and orchids, and he knows Grace didn’t have flowers hidden in the cooler chest. And Steve never has flowers just on his own. Which means she sent him out for them. Or he offered.

They’ve both, the partners in crime, noticed Danny noticing, and what, had they forgotten he’s a detective or something? Giving him strangely matching slightly guilty looks, they continue towards the kitchen to set out the food. Danny lingers in the dining room, because something’s missing.... He goes to the sideboard, finds the crystal candlestick holders, finds fresh candles for them, sets them on either side of the flowers, and lights them.

When he shows up in the kitchen, Grace eyes him uneasily from the other side of the bowl of potato salad. He rolls his eyes slightly at her, which given he usually yells at her for that is probably not the wisest move. She just laughs, which makes Steve perk up and look from one to the other. Charlie’s been sent to wash hands, and he comes back jumping slightly in anticipation.

“Where’s the ‘brosia, Gracie?”

Of course, it’s his favorite. Grace sets it out, taking the lid off, and lets Charlie pick a cherry from on top.

“Ohh, is that ambrosia, Charlie? You know what? That’s my favorite, too.”

And Danny just about falls over.

“Really?” Charlie asks, as though he’s certain Crazy Uncle Steve’s just pulling his leg.

“Yeah, buddy! My grandma used to make it, and I always loved it. I haven’t had it in ages.”

“It’s Danno’s favorite, too,” the treacherous child blurts out. And Danny cringes.

He’s expecting chiding. He’s expecting teasing. He’s expecting something about pineapple and coconut, and maybe something about things that are sweet and not actually real food. What he’s definitely not expecting is for Steve to wrap his arm around Danny, draw him close, and kiss him on the fucking cheek.

“Well, of course it is, buddy, because Danno’s sweet and ambrosia is sweet, and you’re sweet.”

“But you’re not sweet!” Points out Danny’s wonderful, intelligent, thoughtful, observant child.

Steve grins. “But that’s because I haven’t had it in too long. I bet as soon as I have some, I will be. What do you think?”

“Maybe....” He doesn’t sound convinced, but he does sound amused.

Not half as amused as Danny’s conniving daughter looks, however. She’s pretending to be fussing with the ham, but it’s in the crock pot, Danny knows better, there’s nothing to fuss with. She’s hoping he won’t look her in the eye, because—she knows, her face will give her away, and sure enough. He’s not really sure what he sees, but it’s a look he knows from Rachel—when she’s been proven right about something and is trying (and failing) not to gloat.

“Shall we dish up here?” She asks, effectively breaking the spell of whatever the hell that was that just happened, and busies herself helping Charlie and herself to ham and the salads, adding one roll each, and getting them out of the kitchen with stunning speed.

Leaving just them. Steve and Danny. Standing in the kitchen. Danny, still befuddled and a bit dizzy, and Steve looking slightly giddy and anticipatory.

“Help me with drink refills?”

Danny nods and gets the ice and rum, though he’s not so sure drinking is the best idea, given this... thing... whatever the heck is going on. Steve fills the kids’ glasses and takes them out to them, leaving Danny to decide how much rum to add to theirs. He goes with just a little each, but leaves the rum sitting out. When Steve comes back, he’s seeming tentative, like he’s expecting something from Danny.

“Do you really like ambrosia?” Danny asks, handing Steve his drink.

Steve suppresses a smile, looks almost shyly at his feet. “It was my favorite part of Easter dinner as a kid. After Grandma died, mom never made it, so I wasn’t kidding. It’s been ages since I’ve had it. But yeah, Danny. I love it.” As if to prove it, he takes a spoon from the drawer and scoops himself out some, and holy crap, the look on his face.... “Yep, tastes like childhood.” He grins at Danny’s expression, which is probably, given how he’s feeling, some really messed up combination of lust and surprise and something close to utter delight. Steve moves closer to Danny. “You want a taste?” He asks softly. Danny manages to nod. He thinks he does, anyway. Well, he must, because Steve’s leaning in, and very lightly pressing a kiss to Danny’s stunned lips, licking just enough inside his mouth as it falls open in shock that he can taste the lingering flavors of the fruit and sweet creaminess.

When Steve pulls back, Danny’s just frozen in place. Can’t move, pretty sure he’s not breathing, and can’t think of anything other than ambrosia and kisses, and that’s something that could totally mess a person up.

Steve starts plating for both of them, while Danny just stands there, staring at this very very strange and wonderful and beautiful and _fourteen other things his mind tries to supply at once so it comes out like an incoherent babble_ man.

“Come on, buddy, let’s go eat,” Steve says, handing Danny his plate, picking up his own glass, and heading to the dining room.

Danny follows him, still slightly stunned, and bereft—he wants those surprisingly soft lips back on his, he wants that amazingly comfortable warmth back, next to his body.... When he makes it to the dining room, and sees his kids sitting there in the candlelight, their plates piled high with Easter tradition, and Steve, at the head of the table, looking not smug as he might have expected, but so goddamn utterly overflowing with love. He looks like a third fucking candle, he’s just glowing, radiant. As though this meal, this thing here, these kids sitting at his dining room table on Easter means absolutely everything to him.

It seems to Danny as though it’s possible it just might.

Once he’s sitting, and takes a bite, he starts to feel like he’s in his body again, and he notices Grace watching him.

_You okay?_ She mouths at him, and he knows then, that there are tears starting to form in his eyes. He nods. And smiles, which of course is a mistake, because it makes one of the tears spill down his cheek. Which makes her smile so hugely, and she mouths back _Good_. And then returns to her food.

“This ham is fantastic, Grace,” Steve’s saying, with his mouth full, of course.

“I know, it’s the pineapple, isn’t that a great idea?”

“It sure is. Isn’t it, Danno?”

Danny’s managed to wipe his eyes with his napkin, and he sniffles a little, but he smiles and says “Yeah, actually, it’s surprisingly good.”

Thing is, and he’s not sure it even matters what part of it he means, because it’s kind of all blending together, but it is, all of it, completely wonderful.

Grace offers to clear the dishes if the guys will do another egg hunt for Charlie before it gets dark. Steve kisses her on the head again and says to just leave things to soak and he’ll do the washing later. She nods and starts clearing the table. Danny helps her take the stuff to the kitchen while Steve goes with Charlie to get the basket full of eggs for hiding.

“You planned this. How?”

She sighs. “I knew mom was getting a migraine. She always claims to not know when they’re coming, but, she was off all last night, when we were prepping the food, and I just knew it was coming, so I called Steve and asked if it happened if he’d be okay with us coming over, and he got so excited, Danno, you just have no idea. It made me feel bad that we hadn’t planned to include him anyway, you know? I mean, I know you wanted it to be us, to be family, but... well, Steve’s almost like family, Danno, isn’t he?”

The way she’s eyeing him sends chills down his spine. “How much do you...?” He’s not really sure what he’s asking, because, is he really asking his daughter if she knows how Steve really feels about him? Because he has this very odd feeling that she does....

“He kissed you, didn’t he. Here, in the kitchen, when Charlie and I went to the table?” Danny barely nods. “I thought he might.” She bites her lip. “I hoped he would.”

“How long have you...?” And, well, Danny’s just not very good with complete sentences now, thanks.

“Oh, Danno. Steve’s been in love with you for years. He’s just always afraid to admit it. Sometimes you just need a little....”

“A little what, Grace? Huh? A little... help? Push? Guidance?”

She kisses him on the nose. “Something like that.”

He helps her rinse the dishes, and they leave them stacked by the sink, tidy enough that washing can wait till morning, and it’s not like he wants Steve to not have to wash them tonight or anything.... Not like he has something else he’d rather do instead.... Which is when he realizes why Grace had insisted on the overnight bags.

“Did Steve say you guys should sleep over?” (The unspoken part of that is, of course, _please tell me my teenage daughter did not come up with that part of the plan herself_.)

She smiles, setting the cake out to warm up a little before they eat it. “Yes, Danno. And _that_ was all him. Promise. But the walls here are really thin so please keep that in mind.” And she dared to say it, but she doesn’t dare to stick around, and ohh, can that girl run fast, even in her frilly sweet Easter dress she’d beat him by a mile.

He’s blushing furiously, he knows, but the sun’s starting to get low in the sky, so he follows her outside, and she’s gone all the way on the other side of the lawn, and she’s playing tug of war with Eddie.

Steve sees him, though, and he makes his way over. “Everything okay?” he wraps an arm around Danny as he says it, presses a kiss to his cheek again, as though this is something they’ve been doing for ages.

“Yeah, I dunno. My daughter seems to think we need to be quiet tonight, so that’s something I didn’t really need to hear from her....”

“She’s a good kid, Danno.”

“Of course you’re going to say that, she’s like your pimp or something.”

Steve laughs, and tugs Danny around to face him. “She just worked out what’s been sitting there this whole time, buddy. She’s a sharp one. Knew just how to....”

“What, give it a little push?”

“ _Encourage me_.”

“So, what, you’re saying you’ve been wanting this all along, and you never did anything, but then my daughter offers to bring Easter dinner over and somehow this makes you decide it’s time to make your move?”

Steve pulls Danny in for a slow, sweet kiss. “Something like that.”

And the fact that he uses the same phrase Grace did should surprise him, but of course it doesn’t. And he sighs, but finds it really hard to mind very much at all, and they sit back down on the picnic blanket, and Charlie comes over with a full basket of eggs, and Eddie and Grace join them, and they sit there and finally open the little plastic eggs and count the coins and chocolates, and they just laugh and enjoy the sunset, and Danny isn’t going to pretend it’s not magical, and he isn’t even going to pretend that he didn’t get the Easter he wanted anyway... because that feeling, the one he’d had before? He’s finally worked out what it was. The feeling of _family_. Because, of course, that’s exactly what this is. That’s exactly what they are, the four (okay, Eddie, _five_ ), of them. And he can’t help it, he finds himself thinking that it’s the best Easter ever. And if he leans up against Steve, and their fingers twine together in the folds of the picnic blanket, well. That shouldn’t be any more shocking than the kissing, but somehow it feels even more amazing.

Once it starts getting dark and begins to grow cold, Grace reminds them all about dessert, and probably they’ve had enough sugar from the candies in the eggs, but it’s Easter. A certain amount of sugar is required. So they head in, and Steve puts the cake on a cake stand and brings it to the dining room. Someone’d blown the candles out, so he relights them, and it’s even more lovely now that it’s dark out... candlelight flickering on the cake, on the flowers, on the sweet faces of his children... and in the twinkling and slightly mischievous eyes of his partner at the other end of the table. And there’s this fleeting moment where Danny feels not joy, not happiness, but that deep hurt and fear that comes sometimes at times like this, because he knows that it won’t happen again tomorrow, and possibly not for a long time.... But he chases that thought away, as Charlie passes him a slice of that ridiculous pink and orange and green cake. Because he knows it will happen again. Even if it’s pizza and paper plates, instead of Easter dinner and the good china.... The part of it that really matters is the being together. He knows that. And yeah, the special holidays mean a lot to him, they always have, he thinks they probably always will, but to have them together, as a family, well, there’s just no way that’s not going to mean so fucking much more. So he tells that clingy voice of doom to shut the hell up and get lost, it’s his family and he will take what he can get. And the thing is, the cake really isn’t very bad at all.

Grace takes Charlie upstairs to get ready for bed after, and Steve blows out the candles, helps Danny with the dishes, then takes him by the hand and leads him into the living room, where he sits down in the easy chair and pulls Danny onto his lap.

“I like this look on you,” Steve murmurs, as he slides his hand under Danny’s tie, running it up his chest, then fingers the edges of the vest thoughtfully, as though he’s been trying to understand it all day.

Maybe it makes Danny feel a little smug, thinking the way he looks has any kind of effect on Steve. It’s only fair, seeing as the way Steve looks on an ordinary Tuesday, with his stupid shaved head and his even more stupid cargoes with the damn holes, does infuriating things to Danny on a regular basis. So, it’s nice, he thinks, to be able to repay the favor even just a little. But he’s not letting the tie thing go lightly. No fucking way.

“Really, babe? Even the tie?”

Steve looks a little caught out, which is good, because Danny’d probably smack him otherwise. “Yeah, well, it suits you, like this. In your Sunday best.”

“Mmmm.” If he sounds like he needs convincing, he’s just being honest. Not trying to get more from Steve about how he looks.... Well, maybe a little.

It works though, because Steve seems to take it as a challenge, and continues to explore the tie/vest/shirt combination with his deft hands, while softly saying sweet things about the color of the tie, and the color of Danny’s hair, and the early spring sunlight... and it borders on sappy, and Danny doesn’t mind in the least. But he does start to feel very aware that they are out in the open here in the living room like this, and maybe it would be more fun to move things somewhere a little more private....

“Unfortunately, this is all I have. Unlike my kids, I did not bring an overnight bag, having not been let in on this little plan of yours and Grace’s. But if you take me upstairs, you could see how it all works. The tie, I mean, not—”

And Steve cuts him off with a kiss. “Let’s go say goodnight to the kids, and then you can show me anything you like.”

Which is an awful line, seriously, but it makes Danny shiver anyway. He wonders just how much Steve anticipated... wonders a little bit _how long_ he’s wanted this. Grace’s words about that echo slightly uncomfortably in his ears as they head up to tuck the kids in. Charlie’s all hyped up on too much sugar, and he’s bouncing on his bed asking for bedtime stories. Steve grins, pulls out a stack of his old books and tells Charlie to pick. While they’re deciding—and Steve’s giving synopses of his favorites, Danny peeks in on Grace.

She looks totally at home, and how much stuff did she even bring in that bag? The room almost looks like it should be her own. Steve’s hung twinkly lights over the bed and around the window, and he’s put up what must be one of Mary’s old batik wall hangings—something Danny’s never seen before, but something he knows is a thing Grace would love but Rachel won’t allow (only framed art is fit to hang on walls in her view). Grace looks at ease and happier than he’s seen her in a long while. Maybe there’s a level of freedom for her, here at Steve’s that she can’t really have at either of her parent’s homes. Crazy Uncle Steve is cooler than mom or dad, that’s for sure.

“He did this for me,” she says, softly, spinning around, showing off the room. “Just for me. In one night, just in case.... How can you doubt how he feels about us?”

And of course, she’s reached right inside Danny’s head and pulled out his swirling of feelings and questionings, teased them right out, gone right to the heart of it, and shown him just how mad he is to even think of questioning the depth of Steve’s commitment, care, concern... _love_... for all three of them.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Good. Because I don’t.”

He chuckles softly at the sternness in her voice. “Don’t stay up too late,” he says as he kisses her on the forehead, then she settles down in the bed with her book and a rather large assortment of stuffed animals, not all of which he recognizes.

“You either,” she whispers as he closes the door.

When he slips quietly back inside the other room, Steve’s perched on the edge of the bed, reading a story Danny recognizes, one he knows Charlie doesn’t know, and it makes him smile as he listens to Steve’s recitation of it. Steve’s good at reading stories. He does voices, and sound effects—not really surprising, really. And something tells Danny to stay just slightly back, so he lingers in the doorway, just out of sight of the boys on the bed, and he listens. When Steve finishes the story, he seems eager for Charlie’s reaction.

“What’d ya think, buddy?”

“I think... that Toad sounds like Danno....”

“He sure does, doesn’t he.”

“And Frog sounds like you, Uncle Steve!”

“Why, thank you, Charlie.”

Charlie pauses, like he’s mulling something over. “Are they in love?”

Steve, Danny’s certain, is grinning smugly. “What do you think, buddy?”

“I think they belong together. Like you and Danno do.”

“I think so too, buddy,” Steve whispers, and kisses him on the head.

Danny pushes reluctantly off the doorframe and into the room. “Alright, time to sleep, boys.”

“Night-night Danno. I loved today.”

He pulls the blanket up around Charlie and smoothes it out. “Me, too, keiki,” he murmurs, as he leans down and kisses him on the forehead. “Me, too.”

Steve’s left what has to be his old nightlight on. It’s a rotating shade with cowboys and Western scenes, and Danny thinks, not for the first time, that there’s somehow, and of course it makes no sense, but there’s somehow a little of Steve in both his children.

Danny catches Steve looking back over his shoulder as he leaves the door open a crack. He nods his head toward Steve’s room, mouths _Come on_ , and reaches out a hand to encourage him.

“I really like having them here,” Steve whispers, as he takes the offered hand. “A lot.”

“You put a lot into getting those rooms ready....”

Steve grins. “Nah, it was easy. It was all already there, I just had to put it out.”

“Well, it means a lot to them. And to me.”

“I’m glad.”

They get ready for bed, again as though it’s a long established routine, not just something totally out of the blue with no easing in. Steve painstakingly removes Danny’s tie, hangs it in the closet, where the vest follows. His movements are slow and gentle and almost reverent. He’s just taking in as much as he can, fingers only brushing softly against Danny’s skin, not grasping, not needy—knowing he’ll be allowed what he wants, what he’s wanted... and Danny thinks that probably he would watch Steve watching him like that for hours.

Steve offers Danny his choice of pajama options. They’ve left the door open just a little, wary of little boys and nightmares and new sleeping places, and there’s this unspoken agreement, despite Grace’s warnings about the thickness of the walls, that the menu for the night portion of the program will be limited. Danny elects to go with a soft and faded pair of sleep pants, but declines a shirt, and maybe he’s thinking that tormenting Steve just a little is only fair.

They curl up against each other, finding how their bodies fit together, in bed—perfectly and easily. Danny’s head rests against Steve’s own bare chest as though it’s where it belongs. And, as his mind begins to settle too, there’s one thought, he thinks he’s seen it forming, and it comes to the front now, crystal clear but in that soft glowing kind of way... it’s not a revelation or some new amazing thing, just a finally realized truth, and yes, looking back things look differently, but there’s that sense of... yeah. I knew it all along, somehow.

“I can’t help but have this slightly weird feeling that my children saw this happening before I did.”

Steve’s got his fingers in Danny’s hair, and he likes it at least as much as Danny does. “The kids, as they say, ship it.”

“I think maybe you’re spending too much time with a certain teenager....”

“No such thing, Danno, not when it comes to either of them.”

“If you’re not careful I might start to think you’re using me to get to my kids....”

“Not a chance,” Steve growls, and gives Danny a kiss that proves it.

Danny pulls back after not very long because already he’s making noises he knows he’d better not, but he doesn’t mind stopping because he knows very soon he won’t have to—there will be more than enough time for all kinds of things. And as much as he loves the thought of that, he loves this too, warm and snug at Steve’s side, knowing the kids are asleep across the hall.

He hears Eddie’s paws on the floor in that hall, and he wonders where he’ll choose to sleep. A fuzzy golden head appears in their door, and Steve whispers “Hey, Eddie, good boy.” And the head withdraws. They hear the soft creaking of a door and they can see, through the larger opening he left, that he’s gone into Charlie’s room. Danny hopes he won’t wake up, because he’d be so excited to know the dog chose him.

Steve chuckles softly as he puts his head back down and draws Danny close. “I like having the house full like this,” he says as he moves to let Danny settle against him.

Danny nods and yawns.”Mmmm, me too, babe.”

The depths of Steve’s preparedness show through in the morning when he’s got Charlie’s favorite (by which he means, the only one he’ll eat) cereal sitting out on the kitchen counter along with a fresh carton of milk and glasses of orange juice. He’s making toast with all kinds of toppings, and, what, he’s been studying trendy eating habits or something? But Grace swoops in and helps, and isn’t surprised at all, and it occurs to Danny that they talk, regularly, far more than he’s realized. It pulls at something deep within his chest, and he finds himself standing, slightly outside the circle of their movements, just taking it in, wanting to save it, wanting to capture it, wanting it to be something they have again.

With that thought somehow fueling him, he starts to put together lunches for all four of them, from the leftovers, and he doesn’t even need to ask what they all want, because he knows. He’s got an assembly line going for sandwiches, and Charlie, who is perched on a stool at the edge of the counter, eating his cereal happily, is policing him with how much mayo he puts on them—it can’t be too much or too little and it’s very difficult to tell the difference sometimes, and he gets just a little bit flustered, but then Steve’s there, behind him, handing him a coffee and kissing his ear and whispering something about how much he loves this, and it makes him relax and ease up and he pauses, to sip his coffee, and lets it all swirl around him again, the slight edge of chaos to it, and that’s what Steve does to him, he realizes. Holds him still in the midst of that tidal pull of the flow of things. He anchors him so he is swept away less by the little things, so he can see them more fully, have that time, that moment, to enjoy it before things swell and are gone. He sees so clearly, the difference it makes for him, with Steve there. It’s like everyone else is always in a slight blur, while Steve is solid and clear. Almost like there’s a slight time phase, and Steve can connect with him on this crazy metaphysical level while everyone else swims in chaos around them. It’s when Steve’s touching him, or making that fabulously intense eye contact with him, this point of connection that balances and fuels and calms. And he’s never had that with another person before, it’s always only been with Steve, and it’s one thing to have it on cases, it’s another to have it like this, at home.... He thinks he could really enjoy having it all the time.

Grace, as though sensing Danny’s a bit lost in thought, takes over packing up the sandwiches he’s made, and Steve takes the opportunity of that distraction to get Danny to eat something, but he sees, out of the corner of his eye, as he takes the piece of elaborately loaded toast he’s been given, a look of delight on Grace’s face. She takes care of Danno, she always has, but it seems she enjoys Steve’s help on that front more than a little. And she’s well versed in the practice of affirming positive behaviors, because she rewards Steve’s action with a kiss on his cheek. He beams with such pride in response that Danny almost laughs.

They’re all of them, he thinks, more than a little smitten with each other, with this whole, unlikely scenario. And that fear he’d had before, about when they’d have this, all of them together, again, recedes a bit further, because it’s kind of taken on a life of its own, he thinks. Like it has its own propulsion, its own fuel, and somehow it feels utterly true and solid and real, in just under one day. Less like it’s come into being overnight, more like it’s been there all along, maybe lying dormant, maybe slightly sleeping, but there, and awake in moments, like when Steve plays race cars with Charlie, or when Grace and Steve go running together. But it’s awake now, and it’s sweeping all of them up together in this wonderful swirl of domesticity and contentment. Danny thinks it’s possibly his favorite thing ever.

The bubble bursts a little when the more practical bits of teeth brushing and bag packing and getting in the car all need to happen, but Steve takes the kids to school while Danny goes home to get dressed, and the kisses in the driveway and waving bye tug at his heart and he knows he wants this again. And soon.

When he makes it to work a short time later, he heads directly to Steve’s office, and Steve’s got their lunches sitting together on his desk, and he’s got a travel mug of coffee from home which he hands to Danny and they just sit there for a bit, smiling and a little bit adjusting to this new energy.

“Any time,” Steve says softly, as though not wanting to frighten the new thing away. “Any time, you guys can come over. I know you have your routine at home, and that’s wonderful. But any time you want to do that again....”

It’s still a little early, and no one else is in yet, and Danny gets up and walks over to Steve and draws him up to standing.

“ _You_ ,” he says, digging his hands into Steve’s pockets and pulling him close. “You are part of our routine now. Doesn’t matter where it is. It’s yours now too. Any time you want.”

And Steve grins so beautifully, looking down into Danny’s eyes. Maybe they get a little too lost in the kiss, maybe that weird time thing happens again, or maybe they just are so full of this warm and flowing thing to even mind, but it takes Tani sticking her head in the office and saying “Hey guys, we’ve got a case,” before they break apart, grinning, maybe blushing a just little, and follow her out to the tech table, where the whole rest of the team have evidently been standing, and no one says anything, but they’re all biting their lips and making slightly strained faces as though it’s taking them a lot to not comment. It doesn’t take long before they all fall into case mode, and from there it’s almost as though nothing’s different... and yet as though it all is. And that’s pretty much exactly, Danny thinks, pretty much exactly how it feels.

Which is pretty damn perfect.


End file.
